


Floriograpy

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9914351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: A first time fic written in memory of Claire Wilson. I hope she would have liked it. Repost of an older fic.Beta byMischief5





	

**Author's Note:**

> A first time fic written in memory of Claire Wilson. I hope she would have liked it. Repost of an older fic.  
> Beta by [Mischief5](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief5/pseuds/mischief5)

Lorne didn't think much about it when he first saw the plant on his desk. To be honest, he barely noticed it. He had other more pressing concerns. 

The slime and muck currently clinging to his uniform and boots threatened to eat a hole in his BDUs—now that had his attention. The decon showers were full. Not one of the sixteen marines in his company had escaped unscathed. Victims of the same disaster, they were all caught off-guard by the slimy vines. Damn it to hell—the one time they really needed a botanist along, they didn't bring one.

Lorne peeled out of his clothes and shoved them into the hazmat bag provided by Dr. Biro. Maybe his boots could be saved. More importantly, if he hurried, maybe he could save his skin. He turned the shower on full blast and stood under it until his skin wrinkled. It wasn't until he began toweling off that he wondered what Dr. Parrish was up to. Despite his best efforts, the doc's quirky charm had grown on him. Not to mention, Lorne would bet his last hand grenade that Parrish would never have let them step into that mess in the first place.

Clean and dressed, Lorne headed toward the infirmary at a jog. He needed to get the mandatory checkup up out of the way so he could hit the mess hall on the way back. Being vine-slimed sure worked up an appetite and he had a strange hankering for lemon chicken.

Soon as he finished, he had to give his report to Dr. Weir and Colonel Sheppard. When that was done, well, Lorne couldn't call it a day until he'd personally checked on every single one of the marines he'd taken off-planet.

The next morning started with an unscheduled off-world activation. Bleary-eyed, he barely noticed when his sleeve brushed against the lemon balm plant as he reached for his extra ammo. The lack of coffee wasn't making him bitter, but swear to god, if Sheppard's team came in hot one more time, he was going to start keeping extra C-4 in his desk as well.

~*~

Then, a second plant showed up. He found this one tucked into the pocket of his tac-vest. It was a sprig of hyacinth with one tiny, blue bud and someone had carefully wrapped tissue around it to keep it safe. Lorne cupped it carefully in the palm of his hand. He still didn't know the 'why' but he was starting to figure out the who. It had to be someone from botany. His money was on Dr. Parish. Without a doubt, this delicate posy was somehow connected to their last mission together.

They had been off-world. It was a simple assignment; at least, it was supposed to be.

"Dr. Parrish, glad you could join us today." Lorne stood, hands folded over the butt of his P-90, and gazed over the open field.

"It's always an adventure to get out of the lab, Major." David Parrish knelt down and removed a specimen jar from his pack. He smiled up at Lorne. "I think you can call me by my first name by now. We've certainly been on enough missions together."

To the left of them were high bushes, bursting with clusters of red berries, and Lorne nodded in their direction. "Well, David, what do you think? Have we found ourselves some coffee beans or not?"

"I need a closer look. I don't want to guess and have to tell Dr. McKay later that we were wrong." He stepped toward the bushes. "As I was saying, Major, although this climate and soil suggests an optimal environment, one can never be certain…" He paused and looked at the expression on Lorne's face. "Yes, well, from here they certainly do look like _coffea Arabica_."

"Good," Lorne said. "Keep your fingers crossed because as much as I don't want to disappoint Dr. McKay, I sure as hell don't want to have to tell Dr. Zelenka we didn't find his coffee beans."

"He does have a particular hang-dog expression it's best to avoid," David agreed, smiling. "There's a saying in botany: Ignore Dr. McKay's warning at the risk of a painful death; ignore Dr. Z's misery at the risk of a painful life."

Rocking back on his heels and grinning, Lorne had to agree. The marines had a very similar saying—only with more curse words.

Two minutes later, David stumbled over a Wraith body. Lorne grabbed the back of his tac-vest, saving David from an ungraceful sprawl over the dead Wraith by inches. "Again?" Lorne asked. "Unbelievable. You're like a magnet for these things. C'mon, this kill looks too fresh for comfort. We need to get you back to the gate, doc."

~*~

It was old news by now but David kept apologizing. Jeeze, Lorne thought, it wasn't as if the poor guy could help it. Things happened. Besides, he'd brought back enough samples to prove they found the real deal. Hell, the engineers were already at work building a coffee roaster, and Dr. Z kept muttering _French Roast_ , his eyes alight with an unholy glow. Chuck, on the other hand, was pouty of late, no doubt because his black-market on beans was about to crash.

Lorne put the cup holding the hyacinth sprig next to the lemon balm plant and frowned in thought. It was here, right in front of his face. Come on, Lorne told himself, put the clues together. An old memory began to blossom and suddenly Lorne knew exactly what this was.

When he was a kid, nine years old or so, Lorne had a fascination with pirates. He wanted to be a swashbuckling French corsair, not just any old pirate. He'd stolen his mother's yardstick, sawed a crooked point on the end, and had spent many a summer afternoon waving it in the air prepending it was a sword.

He read every book about adventure on the high seas that their local library had. He dreamed up adventures. He sat out on the porch roof staring at the stars and pretended to be a lookout at the top of a crow's nest. He made villains walk the plank. And when he'd run out of pirate stories, he turned to books about the Victorian era. Most of them he found it boring but one book caught his interest, and now, the real deal was staring him in the face. _Le Language des Fleurs._

Hyacinth for apology and lemon balm for sympathy. A wry smile tugged at his lips. Good to know he had at least one sympathetic friend sorry he'd been vine slimed. He should have known it was from David; the hyacinth apology cinched it.

Lorne couldn't help wonder what would come next.

~*~

He made some rapid excuses and ducked into the puddlejumper while everyone else packed up to go back to Atlantis. He knew he'd never keep the red from showing on his face if the marines teased him about the flower. It wasn't that Lorne couldn't take some good-natured ribbing as much as the next guy, but this felt too new and fragile for ribald scrutiny.

The Varens made good trading partners. Steady, reliable folk, Lorne was always glad to visit their home-world. Today's trade went well and everyone left the bargaining table satisfied. When Lorne spied the daffodil-looking flowers on the table, he tossed in a request for one plant at the very end of their deal. It raised a few smiles but he'd gotten it. He already had the ferns; all that was left was to work up the courage.

Daffodils for regard. Fern for sincerity. Lorne held them clutched in his hands and paced outside David's quarters. Panic broke out in a cold sweat on the back of his neck when he realized he wasn't alone.

"Colonel?"

"Relax, Lorne." John leaned over to smell the flowers. "Pretty."

"I just…I just…" Lorne cursed himself for stammering and clamped his mouth shut.

"Nice reminder of Earth, isn't it? Seems like a fella would welcome a thought like that, especially a botanist," John drawled.

"Er, yes?" The floor didn't oblige by swallowing him so Lorne was stuck with watching his CO painfully struggle for words.

After a dance of feet shuffling, eyebrow raising, and hands that shifted from rubbing the back of his neck to being shoved into his pockets, Sheppard managed to ask, "Do you think McKay would like one?"

"I would imagine so, as long as he's not allergic?" Lorne offered.

"Oh, right. Hmm, I'll just be going then."

Lorne watched as Sheppard nearly sprinted down the hallway. Okay, then; he put the flowers in front of David's door, feeling better about the whole thing. Whatever came of this, if David did return his affection, there was no way it could be as awkward as Sheppard and McKay.

The next day went nothing like he'd planned. Not only did he not find out David's response to the gift he left outside his door, Lorne didn't see him all day. He had no time to worry about it. Two scientists were missing. When neither one showed up for their morning shift, Dr. McKay wanted to know why. And then, when questioned, no one could remember seeing them since dinner the day before. Lorne couldn't help feel relieved when he found out neither missing man was David. His own reaction came as a surprise. Somehow, through all the Pegasus galaxy craziness, David Parrish had become dear to him.

By noon, they'd narrowed the search down to the west wing of the city. That still left an awful lot of rooms to investigate. Dr. McKay was working on the life signs detector, as baffled as everyone else as to why it wasn't working.

"They must be in a room that's shielded," McKay said.

"Can't you narrow it down more than that, Rodney?" Sheppard asked.

Frowning, Rodney shook his head no.

"Lorne, get your men together, split up into teams, and cover as much ground as you can before night. And be careful," Sheppard added, "a lot of that area hasn't been explored yet."

It took another six hours, but they found them. Lorne wasn't buying the _"we took a wrong turn and got locked in"_ excuse but since everyone got back safe and sound, as far as he was concerned that was his CO's problem. When he left them, Dr. McKay was still analyzing the data the scientists had collected from the abandoned lab. He had a gobsmacked expression on his face and Sheppard was poking him in the arm trying to get some answers out of him. Lorne shrugged. If those two hapless bastards brought back something they could actually use, he'd hear about it soon enough. Right now, his feet hurt too much to give a damn.

Back in his room, Lorne managed to stay awake long enough to strip down and tumble into the clean sheets. He completely forgot about the flowers until the next day when he stepped into his office. On his desk set a little pot of Sweet William and blue violets. Sweet William for gallantry. Blue violets for—His breath caught in his chest. He didn't have to look this up. He knew it by heart. Blue violets meant faithfulness.

It was flattering. More than that, it was a promise that this was leading somewhere. It was also damn discreet. Too discreet. At this rate, they'd both be ninety before they had their first kiss. How could he encourage David to be bolder? Oh, not so bold as to get Lorne into trouble but bold enough to declare his interest. Preferably in a way that didn't involve horticulture.

~*~

The next day, Lorne decided to implement his plan. He was going to invite David to a group movie night. Sheppard's team did it all the time and no one thought twice about it, not even when his team was just him and McKay.

That evening, Lorne gathered up a movie, a bowl of popcorn, and pinned a sprig of clover to his T-shirt. The clover was a chancy move. It was a declaration and a question— _Be mine_. Lorne had no doubt that David would recognize his intent. He just had no idea what David would do about it. Gathering his courage, he knocked on the door. Just as he was about to change his mind and hightail it down the hallway, David opened the door.

Shoulders back, chin up, Lorne bravely stepped through the doorway. He wasn't surprised to see that David had a screen set up to watch the movie or beverages on the table for them to drink. He wasn't surprised to see the pillows on the couch. Although, the couch itself was a surprise because he hadn't known that David had one. Figured. Ever since the botanists began making the city's pharmaceuticals, they got all the good stuff.

There was another surprise as well. Lorne completely forgot about the movie in his hand. He began to slowly walk around the room. It was filled with all kinds of plants and flowers. Almond flowers— _Hope_ , lavender— _Devotion_ , lilac— _First love_ , jonquil— _I hope for the return of affection_ , Gardenia— _Ecstasy_. Lorne stared at that blossom for few minutes before his eyes roamed the rest of the room. He recognized the pansies of course — _loving thoughts_ , and his heart warmed at the sight of the pink carnations— _I'll never forget you_.

"David, I don't know what to say… This room, this place, you've created a garden of…"

David stared down at his toes. "You don't like it. I went too far. I knew it was a mistake."

"No," Lorne said, "it—it's just…" He patted his chest like he had a hidden pocket with a perfect answer in it. "Look, I just need—do you have a—no, wait I got one." Lorne pulled a pencil from his pants pocket. He pulled down the calendar on David's wall and flipped it over so he could write on the back. "I know I don't have the right kind of flower. I'm no botanist, and I don't even know where to find what I want to say. God, I wish I had my paints right now."

Lorne drew and erased and drew again. He could feel David watching him as he worked. It wasn't going to be good enough, he knew that, but he trusted that David would understand. He got caught up in reworking the leaves, and he knew the petals weren't perfect enough—damn—the only easy part had been the thorns. He was reworking the third flower when he felt David's hand on his shoulder.

"Three roses," David said.

Lorne put the pencil down, hands shaking from the effort. "They're supposed to be red." Three red roses— _I love you_. "I can fix that when I get back to my room."

David's hand slid down from Lorne's shoulder and he laced their fingers together. "And I want to see that, I really do. But…" David tugged Lorne within kissing distance. "Nothing says you have to go back to your room right away."

"Um," Lorne began, "I don't think there's a flower for that."

David began tugging on Lorne's shirt and didn't stop until he could put his hands on Lorne's bare chest. "I'm not sure there's a flower for this either, but unless you've got an objection…"

"Carry on," Lorne said. "If there's not a flower for it, I'll draw you one. Oh hell, keep that up and I'll paint you an entire garden."


End file.
